


era su reina, ahora su diosa

by rjtondale



Category: Music RPF, Reggaetón Music RPF
Genre: Anniversary, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, edited very little and not beta-read, happy valentine's day week, literally it's just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22673548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rjtondale/pseuds/rjtondale
Summary: Cazzu & Eladio celebrate their anniversary.
Relationships: Cazzu/Eladio Carrion
Kudos: 4





	era su reina, ahora su diosa

“Honey, I’m home!”

The back door bangs shut, and Eladio’s keys jingle as he tosses them onto the counter. Cazzu tucks her feet up under her on the couch, knowing what’s coming next. “Do you have to say that every time?” she calls back.

“Yes.” Eladio collapses onto the sofa beside her. “You love it.”

“Sure,” Cazzu says.

He kisses her cheek, and she suppresses a smile. Maybe she does love it, if only because it means he’s home. She rests her head on his shoulder.

“What took you so long, anyway?” she asks. “You were supposed to be back two hours ago.”

“Mm, you know, once the flow gets going…”

He trails off. She does know, and she knows how he works, but it’s not like him to be _this_ late. Even so, with Eladio’s arm around her, his lips on her hair, Cazzu can’t be angry. “What were you working on?”

“That, my dear, is a secret.”

“Even from me?”

“Even from you.”

“I could call the studio,” Cazzu says, making no move for her phone.

Eladio holds her a little closer. “Nope. They’re all sworn to secrecy, too.”

It doesn’t matter; Cazzu wouldn’t have called them, anyway. If it’s a secret, it’s a secret. She may be curious, but if he’s being this cagey about it now, she might as well wait until he’s ready to show it off. She’ll see sooner or later.

“Te amo,” she says instead.

“Y yo más que tú a mi.” He kisses her head again and changes the subject before she can argue. “Did you eat already?”

“It’s one o’clock in the morning, love,” Cazzu says.

“Is it?” Eladio checks his watch. “Oh. It is. So that’s a yes, then.”

“Yes. But we could probably find you something if you’re hungry.”

“We ordered in from the studio. I was just making sure you’d -”

“I can take care of myself,” Cazzu interrupts. It doesn’t come out quite as strongly as she’d meant it - their tangled limbs and synchronized breathing dampens the effect slightly. She leans back an inch to face Eladio straight-on.

He’s still beaming like he always does when he looks at her, and she softens. When they first met, when they were just friends, his protectiveness drove her to the brink of insanity. Now… well, now it still gets on her nerves, but she forgives him for it. She smiles back and touches his cheek.

“I missed you,” he says.

“It’s been twelve hours,” she replies.

“Feels like twelve years.”

Cazzu doesn’t have a comeback for that. They should be used to being apart by now. But he’s right - she missed him today, too. She kisses him quickly, and he brushes her hair back from her face. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to leave it there, let the moment hang or say something else or get up to change.

But Eladio is even worse than hiding his smile than Cazzu is. The moment before he falls backward and pulls her down with him, she shifts to give him a better angle. She ends up on his chest, both laughing, her hair now more in his face than in her own. She buries her face in his shaking shoulder.

He kisses her again, more slowly this time. His hands run up and down her back, first over her shirt and then under it. She settles into him and sighs. He’s so warm, solid, she feels safer in his arms than anywhere else in the world.

Not that she’d ever say that out loud. He’s protective enough already without that particular piece of encouragement.

“Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs, and she nods.

They take their time getting there, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake. Their kisses are slow and lazy, their hands gentle on each other’s bodies, nothing like the passionate heat of their first few months. They’re comfortable together now. There’s no need to rush. She’s already memorized the feeling of his skin under her fingers and his fingers on her skin, but she’ll never say no to a refresher.

Suddenly, something tangles itself around Cazzu’s ankles. Her feet fly out from under her, but Eladio catches her around the waist before she can even reach for him. He’s laughing again, and as soon as the shock passes, she giggles, too.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says. “You?”

“Fine,” he says, but she shakes her head.

“Not you.” She looks past him, toward the disgruntled cat on the floor. “Sorry,” she says. The cat pauses in licking itself to glare at Cazzu and Eladio.

“She’s fine,” Eladio says. “Where were we?”

A moment later, they’re falling into bed together, his arms still around her hips and hers around his neck. He doesn’t kiss her. For a long moment, he just looks at her, his thumb tracing an arc back and forth over her hip.

Lying here beside him in their too-big bed, her eyelids are suddenly very heavy.

“Cazzu,” he says, voice low.

“Yes.”

“Mi amor. Mi reina. Mi vida.”

She kisses him twice, first on the lips and then on the cheek. “You had a long day.”

“So did you.”

“So did I.”

He doesn’t have to say what they’re both thinking. She pulls the blankets up around her shoulders, and he reaches over her to click off the lamp. By the time he kisses her one more time, she’s already drifting off.

“Te amo,” he says.

“Y yo más que tú a mi,” she replies, and they’re both asleep before he can argue.

* * *

He’s gone when she wakes up. Not just gone from the bed, but gone from the house; his car is gone, too. If their clothes weren’t still strewn across the floor, Cazzu might think she’d dreamt Eladio coming home at all.

Sometimes he leaves a note on the counter if he’s leaving early, but there’s nothing there today. She’s confused more than concerned, but she texts him anyway.

**Cazzu:** “???”

He replies back almost immediately.

**Eladio:** “Did you see my note?”

Cazzu gives the kitchen another once-over. Still nothing on the countertops or on the table. Just as she’s about to send another text, her cat wanders in and winds itself around her legs. When she reaches down to scratch its head, she spots a folded piece of paper under a chair.

“Did you knock that down?” she asks. The cat blinks in response.

The note is simple, three lines in his small, precise handwriting. “Come down to the studio when you get up. I have something for you. Happy anniversary.” It’s signed with an _E_ and a heart.

Oh, shit. She checks her phone again. Yes, of course today is their anniversary.

It’s not that she forgot entirely - his gift, purchased weeks earlier, is in a box in the top of her side of the closet - it’s just that she thought she had another day. Or two. Maybe she lost track.

Cazzu showers, dresses, and does her makeup in record time. She has no idea what Eladio might have planned, but she doesn’t want to wait any longer to find out. 

**Cazzu:** “On my way. Te amo.”

**Eladio:** “yymqtam.”

An hour later, she’s walking into the studio. It seems to be deserted, unusual even for a weekend morning, and there’s no sign of Eladio. None of the lights are on over any of the recording rooms.

**Cazzu:** “I’m here. Where are you?”

**Eladio:** “Hallway on your right, all the way down, last door on the left.”

Her stomach churns as she follows his directions. There’s no reason why she should be this nervous, but she feels like she’s in a horror movie, walking down this long, artificially-lit hallway with no idea what might greet her at the end.

She opens the door.

She finds herself in a small conference room with a rectangular table, eight chairs, and a screen covering one wall. A laptop and a projector sit in the middle of the table. It’s dark, but entirely unthreatening - and entirely unromantic.

Eladio is there too, of course. He holds out his arms to Cazzu; she hugs him, and he kisses the top of her head. “Good morning,” he says.

“Happy anniversary,” she replies.

“Happy anniversary.” They kiss for real, and then he says, “Have a seat.”

She claims a chair while he plugs the laptop into the projector and hits a few keys. Soon, the screen on the wall lights up with a familiar image: an unlisted YouTube video. The title is cryptic - _ec-jc-anniv_ \- and there’s no description.

“What is this?”

“You’ll see.”

He hits _play_ and pulls up a chair beside her.

The video starts out silent, spinning up like a retro film reel. It’s a shot from the set of their first music video together; she’s doubled-over laughing, and he’s rubbing the back of his neck. Off to the side, the director is rolling his eyes.

Now, in this conference room, Cazzu smiles. She doesn’t remember the joke, but she remembers the feeling. She reaches for his hand.

As the first scene fades out, the music fades in. It’s Eladio singing, not rapping but actually singing, the way Cazzu likes and the way he doesn’t do enough. She recognizes the first line from the first note, and has to resist the urge to sing with him. Y no soy así, pero siempre termino en el mismo cuando bebo Hennessy...

The next shot is from their first concert together, which turns into a shaky cell-phone camera clip from a party, which turns into a silly Instagram screen-recording that she hadn’t realized he’d saved. Shot after quick shot, so many moments together, some professional and some pulled from cell phones or friends’ cameras. The song continues, bits and pieces torn from all their old songs tied together with new lines and inside jokes and hints at stories.

She watches their relationship change. She catches the first moment that he beamed at her the way he always does now, and a few scenes later, the first moment she returned the look. Their first kiss isn’t there, but their first public kiss is; he even left in the roar of the crowd that drowned out the rest of their song that night.

He squeezes her hand, and she squeezes back.

Cazzu in the studio. Eladio in the kitchen. Cazzu on FaceTime, blowing kisses. Eladio in an interview, mouthing Cazzu’s name. Cazzu and Eladio in bed, half-dressed, Cazzu trying to grab the camera from Eladio’s hand. Eladio and Cazzu, always laughing.

The final shot is a quiet moment just before their most recent show. Cazzu in Eladio’s arms, him whispering into her ear, her nodding into his shoulder. A smile, a kiss. Fade to black.

Cazzu touches her own cheek, and her hand comes away wet. She can’t look at Eladio. She stares at the blank screen instead.

Eladio squeezes her hand again. “Are you crying?”

“No,” she lies, but it comes out shaky. They both laugh. “Maybe,” she amends.

“What do you think?”

She doesn’t even hesitate. “I love it.”

And it’s true. This is the best gift she’s ever been given. She’s second-guessing the box in the closet now, but it’s too late to do anything about that. She turns to him.

He reaches out and wipes away a tear, and she leans into his hand. His eyes are so soft watching her, she wants to cry again. Her heart hurts. Nothing she could say or sing will ever feel like enough.

“I know it’s just like -” he starts, but she interrupts him.

“No, it’s not. Don’t say that. It’s ours. It’s perfect.” She kisses his palm.

“Cazzu, mi amor, mi diosa, mi vida,” he says, “te amo.”

As if he needs to say it after that. As if he needs to say anything. As if she doesn’t know.

She stands, steps forward, and kisses him hard. He smiles against her mouth. His chair rolls backward an inch, but he wraps his arms around her waist, and they don’t drift apart. She breathes him in and holds him close.

“Y yo más que tú a mi.”

**Author's Note:**

> title from [diosa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2_f5Os7mKqM).
> 
> "y yo más que tú a mi" from [dile que no peleo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22306318).
> 
> written because mónica wanted fluff.
> 
> happy valentine's day.


End file.
